UNRAVEL
by queenoftimemachine
Summary: Outside Konoha's walls, the war is starting to rage and Ino Yamanaka is growing up. After her return from a long mission, she finds that she has grown too attached to the freedom of the outside world. And when an interesting request is made of her, Ino has to choose between herself and her village – and perhaps, even watch her own spiraling descent into madness.


**UNRAVEL**

(Summary: Outside Konoha's walls, the war is starting to rage and Ino Yamanaka is growing up. After her return from a long mission, she finds that she has grown too attached to the freedom of the outside world. And when an interesting request is made of her, Ino has to choose between herself and her village – and perhaps, even watch her own spiraling descent into madness.)

 _We live for today but we die for the next_ _  
_ _with blood in our veins and the air in our chest_ _  
_ _Oh, we step into war with our hearts on the line_ _  
_ _Dirt on our boots, it shakes free over time_  
\- Honor for all

 **Konoha**

 **The day of the return**

Returning to Konoha seemed like one, unearthly morning after a long mission night of bloodshed. The yellowy-pink air felt empty to Ino, unfamiliar and customary at once, as the sleek buildings of her village became discernible through the morning fog. She'd grown accustomed to living like a nomad, ready to pack and travel at every waking moment and now the village felt strangely binding and not quite like home.

Oddly enough, she passed almost unnoticed, hopping from rooftop to rooftop, even in her grime-splattered state and practical, second-hand clothing. Then again, Ino supposed, it _was_ very early and the Yamanaka Clan was relatively well-known throughout the village, enough for ninja to let her pass without question. It did give her a sense of surreality, though, as if she were struggling to be present in the world, or indeed truly existed at all. Every time she caught a glimpse of herself in dusty shop windows, she would think: 'Who am I supposed to be?' Or: 'What's my cover?'

It felt wrong and false to be herself again. It made her twitchy and alert, made her feel strangely unprotected, now that she couldn't hide behind a false name or a different face. But now she was Ino Yamanaka again and she reminded herself firmly that she was grateful for it.

Nobody bothered her as she navigated her way towards her apartment. It had been provided for, in the months she'd been away. In truth, it was little more than three, creaking rooms; a tiled bathroom with forming mildew, a rundown kitchen and a barely furnished bedroom.

Her apartment was quiet and lush, strangely reminiscent of her childhood home with its smell of clean cotton and fresh flowers. On the windowsill in her bedroom, someone had left a bouquet of carnations and daisies, in an ornate, pink vase that Ino detested at first sight. The sight of such a decoration meant her apartment felt _lived-in,_ which was something she was trying to avoid.

The walls of her apartment felt pressing and all too civilian, not suitable for someone of her occupation. It happened a lot, since the day that she became a sabotage specialist; the frequent times that pleasantness changed, the walls becoming oppressive around her, into a kind of restlessness that left the need to move buzzing in her bones. She was entirely incapable of satisfying in it, when at home, so she bit her tongue and chewed on the insides of her cheeks until it became manageable.

She spotted the neatly folded paper on the windowpane, where the dim, reddish light of the sun came in and darted shadows over the floor. The chocolatey wooden planking creaked under her black, admittedly worn-out boots as Ino approached it rather cautiously. The letter was half-tucked into an envelope, plastered on the dusty windowpane. Written on thick, creamy paper – a hospital paper – and combined with the revolting vase, Ino thought it blatantly obvious who it came from.

'Perhaps I'll visit you later, Forehead,' Ino told her empty bedroom, eyes roaming over her fraying, checkered quilt and dusty carpet. She instantly became aware of all the acquaintances she needed to inform about her return.

'But for now, I'll revel in rest and solitude.'

. . . . . . . . .

 **Konoha**

 **Three days after the return**

The day that Ino decided to visit her best friend in the hospital, began at four in the morning.

She thundered towards her kitchen, sock-covered feet slipping soundlessly over the floor. The thick wood paneling of her kitchen rendered the room deliciously cool and quiet, muffling the rustling sounds of the waking, outside world.

Ino sat there for a while, bare legs neatly folded on the tiled floor, sipping tea from a white, damaged cup, in a tailored, loose-fitting skirt and a prickly, high-tailored blouse that was too tight around her ribcage.

For a moment, she weaved in indecision, chewing vigorously on the soft skin of her cheek, before she rose to her feet in a fluent motion.

The sky opened up bright pink above her, the air rumbling with the cutting promise of morning-rain and thunderstorms. She hopped from rooftop to rooftop, peering curiously downward at the almost vacant streets.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. The easterly wind scraped along her cheeks, biting viciously at her bare fingertips and neck. A flock of birds flew over, kaw-calling and screaming, and Ino recognized them as the messenger-hawks from the village. Their beaks gleamed in the pink sunlight, as they wheeled over the rooftop towards the center of Konoha, where their nests lay in the top of the Hokage Tower.

Ino came to a halt on the rooftop of the building that directly adjoined the hospital. From here, she could see the fog lying over the deciduous forest by the gate, and further in the distance, blue-tinged mountains. Behind them, Ino knew, lay the Land of Bears, with the rivaling village Hoshikagure and a few smaller settlements in the surroundings Lands.

There had only been one time that she'd been sent on a mission to a station near them. She could recall that she stayed in a inn near the border of the Land of Fangs. From the balcony of her inn, she'd been able to see the mist spreading out over the alpine forests and the jagged, snow-capped mountains of the Land of Fangs. She'd wondered then and she wondered now, what it would be like to roam there and for once, be completely free.

Her hands twitched restlessly. There was a strange buzzing at her spine, and Ino began chewing on the insides of her cheeks, until the familiar, metallic taste of her blood slipped through her mouth. She slackened her muscles and breathed in, felt the winter air spiraling through her lungs. It felt odd to be home again, and not entirely welcoming. Konoha didn't have the appeal it once had, Ino decided as she stared down at the roof tiles under her feet. It was all _too much_ and _too soon_ , too little of everything and too much at once. The panic came gliding in, as sudden as the spasming of her throat.

She spotted, far away and blurry, the pink hair of a friend by a window of the hospital. Ino felt herself smile – a hurried, disconnected smile – and then there was a goal, a mission and she was moving.

'Sakura!' Ino yelled and unceremoniously hopped through the window. She landed on top of a pile of papers and almost slipped, before she channeled chakra to her feet to stick them to the floor. A kunai lodged itself in the wall by her head and Ino clacked her tongue disapprovingly. 'Really, Forehead – you must have recognized my voice.'

'You!' Her best friend stood in the middle of the room, staring at her from under a fringe of pale pink. 'Ino!'

'That's me,' Ino said, fingers digging into her palms. She ran over towards her friend and folded her arms around her. Her damp, pink hair clung to Ino's hands.

'You're back,' Sakura said, sounding slightly smothered as she pressed her forehead against Ino's shoulder. 'You're really are.'

Ino grinned. 'I am. Missed me?'

. . . . . . . . .

 **Konoha**

 **Fourteen days after the return**

 **Or: (the day that everything changed)**

'A welcome party?' Ino said, eleven days later as she stepped into Sakura's garden, shivering slightly. She didn't mind the gelid, evening wind, even as it strummed against her body. It served to numb her thoughts until she became less restless and more numb, thinking more about _what ares_ than unraveling the _what ifs_.

Sakura garden spread wide, with expressive rose bushes lined up by the fences and a cherry tree in the remote corner, where the sunlight seldom reached. It was of no surprise that the tree had grown leggy, with hanging, interlacing boughs and the cherries it produced, were small and sour. The garden shone up like embers under the prussian sky, decorated with red and orange lanterns that ran like strings over the yard, illuminating a path of pebbles. Several candles had been lit, on the porch, standing on a little, wooden table with some blemish on the surface, near to various, carefully arranged wicker chairs.

'Yes,' Sakura said, looking less like a teenage girl and more like a young woman in her red, tailored dress. Her pink hair was tied up in a bun on her head, with two loose strands that tickled her temples. 'I thought you needed one, since you've already been home for two weeks.' She looked stern for a moment, furrowing thin eyebrows. 'And you've seen nobody yet. Visited none of our friends.'

Ino shrugged, feeling decidedly underdressed in her baggy shorts and oversized orange vest. 'There was no need,' she said, walking towards the porch and slouching onto a chair. There was a distinct lack of pillows – of ornate decoration. There were no bouquets or plates of sticky, sweet candy. No significant presence of hideous, flowery-decorated vases. It was all vacant and empty, missing something, compared to Sakura's usual excess.

At Sakura's strict, slightly angry look, she elaborated: 'They knew I wasn't dead.'

Sakura seemed to think about that, standing rigid and tight-jawed before the porch. Then, she let out a sigh that made her sound surprisingly tired, as if she couldn't come up with any coherent response, and walked tentatively towards Ino's chair, hobbling slightly on red heels. 'You're becoming colder,' she said, biting her glossy lips and brushing a strand of brassy, pink hair behind her ear.

Ino waited a moment, digging her nails into the skin of her belly, just under the hem of her vest. She flashed an uneasy smile at her friend, who fussed with her hands, averting her gaze to the lawn. They sat in growing silence for a while, while Ino studied her friend under the light of the candles; Sakura looked positively wraith-like, and strangely exotic.

'So, who's coming tonight?' Ino asked as a vicious brush of wind bit into her bare neck. She thought of rangy Shikamaru, underfed and rueful, as he had been before she had left for her mission. They'd met to say goodbye in the graveyard, in front of their sensei's gravestone.

'Tenten insisted on coming,' Sakura said. 'And Chouji, of course. He's far too good for you.'

'I know,' Ino said with a smile of tired mirth. Chouji had always been too kind and gentle, even when they'd been just children. She gestured for Sakura to continue.

'And Shikamaru. Kurenai. Hinata. Lee. Even Neji.' Something glinted in Sakura's green eyes. 'I think you have seriously captured his attention.'

Ino thought about that and crossed her legs, bumping into the table with her knee. She had only interacted with the pretty Hyuga on few occasions – mostly on the field or in the hospital. They had never really spoken. 'I'd make for a bad lover, Forehead. Always out – always on the move – always doing missions. But-' Ino winked. '- I do like some fun for a night.'

She stopped and fell silent, spotting a strange blob on the sky. She half-rose from her wicker chair, squinting at it. 'What is that?' Ino heard her friend say, but she had better, trained eyes and said: 'I think it's a messenger-hawk.'

The hawk came closer, circling daintily towards them, until it spread its wings and fluttered to a stop to land on Ino's outstretched arm. She hummed at the brown animal. 'So, who're you for?'

Sakura trudged up to her, laying a gentle finger on the hawk's head, before taking the scroll from its foot. 'The Hokage's seal,' she breathed. Her jaw became tight. 'Ino Yamanaka.'

Ino took it from her and opened it, angling her body so that Sakura had no view of the content. Her eyes scanned the letter rapidly.

'Alright,' she said, when she was done. With a flash of red light, her hand became alight with a flame and the scroll burned to ember ashes, drifting softly on the wind, resembling golden dust particles.

'Call off the welcome party. I have something urgent to attend to.'

. . . . . . . . .

The Torture and Interrogation building doomed up in front of her, eerily quiet and grand at night. Ino immediately felt giddy at the sight, remembering it from the countless visits of her childhood. Heavens knew that the prospect of meeting her father at this late hour was both accelerating and scary, and incredibly likely. She remembered the frequent times, from her childhood, when she sat alone in the house, eagerly waiting for her father to come back from work, from this exact building and the perpetual empty chair that was her mother's. ANBU Black Ops, her mother had been and still was; Falcon division.

Ino looked up at the gray sky and the heavy clouds that signaled the coming of winter. The frozen ground crunched slightly under her boots. The coldness of the evening slipped against her – but it was a nice, welcoming sensation. It woke her up, made her uncommonly alert and made her blood thrum with adrenaline. She felt exactly as she felt when leaving for a mission and Ino remembered asking Kurenai about that strange feeling. 'To me, it feels like the time before an exam or an audition,' Kurenai had told her, red eyes gleaming. 'But to you, it feels exciting. Dangerous. To you, it's running away to something better.'

The hall of the TI building provided a warmth that Ino didn't know she approved of, as she stepped into the grand hall. It was a sweaty warmth; a heat full of raw anticipation and the blinding sense of danger. The effect was enhanced by the marble pillars at each entrance and the red tapestries with the golden embroidered symbol of the Leaf.

She walked quickly, propelling herself forward with ease, by sliding chakra into her feet. Her footsteps resounded through the hall and she recognized some of the Chunin and Jounin who were leaning against the walls. They watched her go with an almost lazy stare, but none made move to stop her.

When Ino got to the large, wooden door that would lead her to the deep hallways of the highly complicated labyrinth that was the Torture and Interrogation department, she gave the two potted plants that were positioned next to it a considering glance. They reeked of surveillance, just like the statues of the Hokages that stood on all sides of the room. Ino was certain that she'd even seen their eyes gleam.

Nobody stopped her as the gleaming mahogany door opened with a soundless swing, so Ino started her walk towards the meeting room with renewed determination.

She had planned on getting to her assigned meeting without interception, but when she reached the room, a voice made her falter.

'Ino.'

Halted, she turned around in a whirl of pale hair and met the eyes of her father with a tight jaw and a defiant expression.

'Dad,' Ino said, tilting her head. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulder. It was no longer a joyous 'Daddy'; it had changed to a cordial greeting, nearing the emotionless, almost flat.

'I was informed you had returned, yes,' Inoichi said, eying her with a new kind of scrutiny. His gaze traveled up and down her body and Ino wondered briefly what he was looking for. 'Safely and unharmed.'

Ino permitted herself a small smile, although she couldn't find much mirth within herself. 'How wonderful. But you know nothing.'

'I wish you would visit us, Ino,' he said, stepping closer. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. 'Your mother has spoken of nothing else but you these days. She misses you dearly.'

Ino blinked and dug her nails into her palms. 'Doesn't she have something better to do?'

'Your anger will get you nowhere, Ino-'

'For fuck's sake, would you fuck off?'

'She is still – and will always be – your one and only mother.'

'Now I get where Hokage-sama gets her drinking urges from.'

Their gazes warred. Then, Inoichi sighed, pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose. 'You were always stubborn,' he told her. 'I see that hasn't changed.'

What he said was true; it was always true. He never tampered with fact, never spoke a word of untruth or altered his words to the convenience of anyone, least of all his own daughter. He never lied to please or shield – and that, Ino found, was a stark difference between them.

'Get lost, will you?' Ino said, stifling the urge to slap him. 'I have a meeting to go to. Good day to you as well, Dad. Goodbye.'

She grabbed the handle of the door, letting the metal scorch her palm with cold. She heard a labored breath behind her.

'Alright then, Ino. Bye. I hope you change your mind. We have much to tell you.' Ino peered over her shoulder as her father turned on his heel.

Just as her father had taken his leave and his distinct form wheeled around the corner, the door opened and a middle-aged man appeared, in expensive, embroidered suit with a face that Ino could recognize anywhere, because it was frequently displayed in the bingo books; the gaunt, ash-colored face of Kumo's ambassador, Sho Nanashi.

'Well, well. Welcome, Yamanaka-san. We are going to have so much fun together.'

. . . . . . . . .

 **Konoha**

 **Fourteen days after the return**

 **Or: (the day that everything changed)**

Kumo's ambassador slipped away from the door, greeting her with a strange, shallow smile.

'My name is Sho Nanashi. I am Kumo's representative for tonight.'

Ino bowed as well, hiding her shocked face behind a curtain of pale hair. A million of questions went through her head. International parties and connections, diplomats all packed in a room with _her_? With her in some baggy shorts and the oldest sweater she could find?

When she straightened again, he pierced her with a look. 'I have heard a lot about you, Yamanaka-san. I must say I am pleased to meet you.'

Then he turned around, his robes billowing behind his gaunt form. With a hand over his shoulder, he beckoned her to follow him. An odd thought came to Ino then; she could slip the senbon in her sleeve into her hands and smash his skull with it.

Instead, she followed him further into the room, towards the shining, mahogany table by the hearth. Three people sat on one side of the table, leaving two unoccupied seats for her and Sho; two women and one man. Tsunade sat at the end of it, looking more imposing than Ino ever remembered her being, in a green, traditional kimono of fine silk. When the Hokage caught sight of her, a striking smile made it up her lips.

'This is Ino Yamanaka, the personal of Shizune, my apprentice's best friend and the youngest member of the Intelligence and Sabotage department in a century.'

Sho gave her a strange look over his shoulder, gaze traveling up and down her body. She met his stare with a smile and finally took seat between him and the Hokage.

'Hokage-sama, greetings,' she said, sending a glance at the other seated people. The man in front of her leaned forward, the fabric of his suit straining around his bulk and curled his lips upwards in an open, welcoming expression.

Tsunade smiled; a row of coral teeth. She leaned forward in her chair, tilting her head slightly. With widening eyes, Ino realized how Sakura and Tsunade were slowly beginning to look like each other; both strong, brash women in a world of men. She dug her fingers into her palms and straightened up, reminding herself that this was a mission – a goal. She needed to be ready.

'Such a pretty one,' the man in front of her said, his slightly high voice overcoming the crisp sound of burning embers from the fire behind him. His skin was almost translucent, with prominent blue lines that were veins, spreading out over his cheeks. He stroked his ruddy beard, glancing at her with a gleam of intelligence and lust in his eyes; one that Ino wasn't certain she liked and approved of.

Tsunade shifted, gaze traveling towards Ino's face with something akin to anticipation. She took it as an invitation and leaned forward. Her hair tumbled around her in a waterfall of pale hair, as she grinned a smile that made the skin around her eyes crinkle. She flashed her teeth shyly and hid her eyes behind batting lashes, until the man's eyes were solely fixed on her.

The Hokage laughed; a high musical sound that resounded through the chamber. Sho remained silent, staring at Ino from beside her, uncomfortably close.

'Dangerous, little things Yamanakas are, Kazuki-san,' the woman next to Ino's admirer said in an articulate voice that Ino immediately found relaxing to listen to. She had dark skin that glistened under the light of the fire, with hair that was tied into a bun on top of her head, giving her a severe, ruthless impression. At Ino's inquiring look, she curled her lips into a crooked grin and nodded at her. 'Welcome Ino and don't be scared. My name is Mei Tadayame. I am one of the war tacticians of the council.'

'People in high places then.'

Tsunade laughed again – so loudly that Ino had to turn towards her. 'Naturally! I didn't call you here for some B-classed mission.'

Ino furrowed her eyebrows together. 'Then what am I here for? I simply cannot believe that I can be of any use to you. I'm not one of the most prominent medics, like Sakura-chan or a powerhouse. I'm not even ANBU.'

Sho was the one who answered, turning a pale face towards her. 'It isn't because of your particular skillset. In fact - ' He paused,staring deep into Ino's pupil-less in a way that is frankly starting to unnerve her. '- it is quite the opposite.'

At once, she understood. 'I'm reducible.'

No one contradicted her. Tsunade's face went grim, and gaze completely blank. Ino idly thought that she had painted a caste to put on her face and portray nothing but unruffled confidence. Only Mei Tadayame gave her a small smile, but it did nothing to ease Ino's sudden fear.

'Not exactly,' the lady at the other end of the table said, before Sho could speak. She looked over the rim of her glasses at Ino. 'You're valuable to the village, don't be mistaken. If you weren't, we wouldn't have called you here.'

All kinds of possibilities went through Ino's head. The walls seemed to be closing in and she wondered how long it would take until they would collapse on top of her; until her body would break under pressure and all her bones would go _crick_ , _crack._

What if they were talking about a suicide mission? Ino had heard of those; of Hinata's uncle, who gave his body up willingly, of the women who went to enemy villages in the Second Shinobi War and of men who sacrificed themselves on the battlefield. Would she be like them too? A nameless sacrifice, who would never understand glory?

'You want me to die?' Ino asked and if her voice came out shaken, she thought she could be excused for that. 'But I'm a heiress. I can't just – go.'

Tsunade shook her head, looking individuating and solemn under the orange light. The shadows darted over her face, casting her eyes in darkness. 'Haven't your parents told you? They're expecting another child; another girl, if I'm correct.'

It was as if the world stopped around her. Her lungs contracted and her tongue spasmed in her mouth. Ino found herself staring, quite rudely, at her Hokage. The panic showed itself in the shudders that went down her spine, resounding deep into her body – into the fibers of her flesh.

'And it's not suicide mission,' Tsunade continued, voice strangely gentle. Then she straightened, giving her a hard, frigid look. Ino's breath hatched in her throat.

'Then what purpose does Kumo's ambassador have here?'

'Ino Yamanaka,' the Hokage said, looking so imposing that Ino leaned back despite herself. 'Today I will ask of you that which I only dare to ask of few. I am asking you – _not_ ordering you.'

She stopped and waited, but Ino said nothing.

'I am asking you to join our War Program – a program between our two villages. Konoha has the best medics of the entire Land of Fire. Kumo has an Institute of Research, which effectively researches doujutsu and bloodlines.'

She didn't say 'kidnap heirs and heiresses of prominent clans of villages', but Ino knew that it was implied. She remembered the story about the Hyūga heiress, Hinata, who had been almost taken from her bed, when she was younger, by Kumo shinobi. Then Tsunade continued again and Ino's heart chilled in her chest.

'I am asking you to let my medics perform on you things that have never been performed on humans before. I am asking you to let us perform evolution in a small amount of time. I am asking you to let us try to turn you into one of the strongest assets to our village – our specialized war soldiers – and risk insanity, loss of bodily functions and in the worst case, _death_.'

A silence fell and Ino looked deep into Tsunade's eyes, knowing at once that this was serious by the gleam in her irises. She breathed in.

That evening, Ino learned the new meaning of fear.

. . . . . . . . .

A/N

Thank you for reading. I worked really hard on this one, but I understand that it's not perfect and that many may not be interested in a story about Ino. If you are, I request writing a review, especially for those with constructive criticism. Also, I do not have a beta reader, so typos and grammar mistakes may slip through. If you spot any, let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I am merely playing with the characters of this wonderful, dangerous world.


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